


When The Seasons Change

by Kayani_Iriel



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, late night drinking, no betas we die like WOMEN, sexy charcuterie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:01:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27209302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayani_Iriel/pseuds/Kayani_Iriel
Summary: For all Stormwind Keep was his new home, it was foreign to Genn. A late night walk to clear his head turns into drinking wine with King Varian. The potential for more than animosity hangs between them, but will drunkeness spoil the moment?
Relationships: Genn Greymane/Varian Wrynn
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saltsoda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltsoda/gifts).



> This is both a gift to my friend J, and [inspired by a piece of art they created](https://twitter.com/archlich_/status/1316850173205770240) which is on their twitter.

Sleep eluded Genn Greymane. Stormwind Keep, for all it’s comfort, wasn’t Greymane Manor, and would never feel like home to him. Every sound, every smell, was wrong. He finally threw back the too-heavy bed linens, and got up. Dressing swiftly, he opted for a casual shirt and trousers under his favorite heavy jacket, and soft boots instead of hard-soled ones. It was the middle of the night, better to not rouse the attention of the guards.

He padded down the hallways, to an outside door, and took it. It was a short walk to one of the outdoor gardens, and he chose a path leading away from the keep. It was early autumn, the leaves only just beginning to turn, and the flowers still clinging to some of their beautiful colours, but they were not on his mind. He walked, coming back towards the keep as the walkway circled around.

He selected a bench near a balcony, and sat. He let his thoughts wander, to Gilneas, to Liam, to what might have been. He inhaled the night air, taking in flowers, the scent of possible rain, oiled metal armor from guards nearby, and wine.

He sniffed again, trying to locate the last. It came from above, on the balcony. He glanced up, half expecting to find the drink dripping down on him. Instead, Varian Wrynn, King of Stormwind and High King of the Alliance, leaned on the railing overhead, a glass in one hand and a bottle danging from the other. He was staring out over the garden, and Genn wasn’t sure if he’d seen him or not.

“You may as well come up and join me. Or are you going to sulk on the bench all night, wolf?”

Had he been in worgen form, he would have flattened his ears. Instead, he stared forward, hoping that hid his frown. Then he twisted in his seat, getting into a better position to look up at the younger king. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, King Wrynn. I’ll take my leave.”

“It’s fine, Genn. There’s a door down there,” Varian gestured with the bottle. “Come in, up the stairs. First door on the right. It’s unlocked. Glasses on the table as you come in, bring a fresh bottle. We may as well drink if we can’t sleep.”

Genn rose silently, obeying the not quite a command. He nodded at the guards at the door, who let him pass without a word, not even when they saw him head up the stairs to the King’s chambers. He paused before the door, wondering if he’d be stopped, but when no one spoke up, he turned the knob and pushed the door open.

“Don’t forget a wine,” Varian’s voice drifted from the open doors at the end of the parlor, clearly audible. Genn appreciated how good his hearing was, if he’d noticed the door open from that far away. He saw the wine right away, and opened a bottle of a very fine red, picking up a glass to go with it.

Once out on the balcony, he stepped up beside the king, pouring his glass first. Varian nodded, then knocked back half the contents before Genn poured his own, so he topped off the other man’s glass, then filled his own.

He sipped, enjoying the taste of oak and cherry bursting on his tongue as the two men surveyed the dimly lit garden. He could pick out a few colours here and there, especially bright flowers, but knew those fine details would be lost to the human next to him. What did he see out there, in the darkness?

“What brings you skulking about the shadows in the middle of the night?” Varian asked suddenly.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He took a deep drink from his glass.

“Need a different bed? I can arrange it. Or need company? I can arrange that too.”

He choked on his wine. “No, no. Everything is fine, thank you. Stormwind is simply still foreign to me, sometimes it’s hard to settle in.”

Wrynn made a disappointing noise and finished his wine. Genn refilled the glass with a hand that shook only slightly.

“You sure you’re not interested in company? There are plenty of pretty young things that would be happy to warm your bed. Men, women, your pick of the non-human races, if that’s your thing.”

“Thank you, but no.”

“You worgen are so uptight.” Varian drank again.

“I can’t speak for the worgen, but I will say that we Gilneans are not uptight so much as we believe in acting proper. And while I would not discourage my people from seeking _company_ ,” he leaned on the word, “I myself am not looking for any.”

Wrynn snorted, but otherwise stayed quiet. Genn studied him from the corner of his eye. He was a short tempered, fierce man, and his appearance reflected that: the long brown hair pulled up in a tail, the scars across his face, the tall muscular frame. Years of being held captive as a pit fighter had honed not only his build, but his warrior’s skills. Genn had seen him fight, and knew that even in his worgen form, he’d have a hard time besting the man.

He glanced down, finding his wineglass empty. He considered pouring more, but decided against it. One was enough, especially around the prickly younger king. He realized he shouldn’t think of Varian like that; he was a man grown, after all, with a teenage son of his own.

The shattering of glass had him lifting his head sharply. Varian had dropped his glass and was swaying slightly on his feet, eyes glassy.

“Perhaps you should retire for the night, your majesty,” he suggested, keeping his tone neutral. No sense in provoking the warrior that still lurked in Varian.

“I suppose,” was the only answer Genn received. When the man didn’t move, he sighed, setting down wine and bottle. He hooked one hand under the other king’s elbow, turning him slowly. As a human, Genn was a few inches shorter than Varian, and of a slighter build, but his worgen strength allowed him to keep the drunken man pivoting with minimal effort, and without falling down. He angled him towards the double doors, and gently propelled him inside.

Wrynn simply leaned in the direction of his rooms, and Genn took them in that way. Varian leaned on him more heavily as they approached his bedchamber, one arm slung around him in an effort to stay upright. He reeked of wine and sweat and man. To Genn’s sensitive nose, he was nearly overwhelming, causing a tremor to go through him.

Once in the bedroom, the two stumbled to the bed, Varian standing straighter for the last steps. Instead of collapsing, face down, as Genn expected, he straightened and turned, looking the shorter man in the eye. Genn had a moment to realize the other king’s eyes were a dark blue before he also realized the man was leaning in towards him. He turned his head, and sloppy lips slid off his cheek.

“I don’t think this is the time for this, your majesty. Let me help you get your boots off,” he said quietly, turning the drunk man. Varian sat on the bed, swaying faintly, eyes unfocused again. Genn unlaced the dark boots, pulling them off and setting them at the end of the bed. By the time he was done, King Wrynn had curled up on top of the covers, and was sound asleep. With a sigh, the older man pulled the coverlet over him, and left.

Back in his own quarters, he slipped between the sheets, pulling the linens up tight around him. He shivered, but not from cold. He stroked his cheek, where the drunken kiss had landed. Why him? Why now? No answers came, only eventual sleep.

He spent the morning dealing with refugees from Gilneas, handling their requests, requisitioning supplies, and mitigating complaints. An ache was forming in the back of his skull by the time he’d finished the last of the hearings, and the petitioners had departed. He checked the clock on the mantle in the small room he was in. He’d missed lunch by several hours. Well, nothing to do about that now, there was a council meeting in twenty minutes.

Looking back at his paperwork, he scrawled his name on another document. Only a few more to go, and if he pushed, he could get them all done, and maybe swing by the kitchens for something to take with him to the session.

The door opened, but he didn’t look up, only shuffled the signed papers away. “Audience hours are over and I’m needed elsewhere soon. If you’ll come back tomorrow I’ll be happy to assist you, citizen.”  
“Not able to spare a moment for a king?”

Genn’s head snapped up. There stood Varian, leaning in the doorway. He was dressed in grey chainmail covered by a red cloak, and Shalamayne, his great sword, was missing. He was as casual as he ever was in public, and the ghost of a smile played across his lips.

“Of course, your majesty, I have time for you. I just thought-”

“I was yet another petitioner, I know Genn.” Wrynn came in, shutting the door behind him. He leaned a hip up against the sturdy desk, bending to look at the pile of papers the older king was signing. “I can get you a clerk to assist you, you know. You’re a king, for Light’s sake, you don’t need to handle the small things.”

“I like doing things myself,” Genn replied primly, signing the last document. He put the pen down, sanded the last signature, and then stood. Varian stopped leaning, coming around the desk, until the two men were inches apart. Genn could smell the soap the other man had used, noticed his hair was damp around the leather tie. Under it all, the faint musk of him still lingered. He swallowed hard.

“You certainly are the type to want things to go a certain way, a proper way,” Varian said. His breath smelled like peppermint, nearly overwhelming.

“There’s nothing wrong with propriety. We’re kings, how we act sets an example for our people.”

“In all things?” There was the faintest quirk of an eyebrow.

“In all things,” he affirmed. Where was Wrynn going with this?

Varian met his eyes and held them a moment, searching. Whatever he saw there must have been to his liking, because he nodded and stepped back the smallest bit. Genn found himself at odds. Step closer, or ask what the High King needed.

Varian took the choice away. “Thank you, for helping me last night. I… don’t usually let myself get like that around others. I would appreciate your discretion in the matter.”

“Of course, your majesty,” he responded automatically. “I would not bother with something so low as court gossip.”

That earned him more than a ghost of a smile. “I would apologize for the other thing, but I’ll confess, your rejection has me stinging.”

“The other thing?” He knew what Varian meant, but wasn’t about to mention it. Perhaps he could save face playing stupid.

“You know of which I speak. And don’t tell me your interests don’t lie with men as well as women. I’ve seen you watch our soldiers practice.”

“I’m merely evaluating their progress,” he protested. Had he been sloppy?

Varian dropped his gaze from Genn’s eyes, to his lips, staring for a long moment. The he raised his eyes, now dark. “No, you weren’t. You’re subtle, and well controlled. But I was a gladiator. I lived among many many like you. Like me. I know the signs.”

Genn’s heart hammered in his chest. He could smell arousal on Varian, swirling about them, heady and pungent. His own was rising too, he could feel sweat beading on his brow, between his shoulder blades, on his palms.

“Planning on disgracing me in front of the nobles?” he said softly.

“What good would that do? No, I have something else in mind.” Varian stepped forward again, closing the gap between them, and pulled Genn to him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Without a thought, Genn slide his hands up, pressing between the taller man’s shoulder blades, keeping him close.

Their lips met, not in the gentle, hesitant way Genn kissed others in the past, but in a hard press, mouths hungry, searching. A low growl formed in his throat as tongues meet, and the hunger consumed them both. Genn caught Varian’s bottom lip in his teeth, nipping, earning him a pleased groan, and a tightening of hands on his shoulders. A thrill raced through him when his brain finally caught up, shouting a warning that he was kissing the High King of the Alliance, a man he’d sworn fealty to.

Hang fealty and propriety.

He clung to Varian as if the ground was disappearing beneath his feet and the only way to not be swallowed by the abyss was to hold on. He could smell the other man’s interest as they kissed frantically, taste it mixing with the peppermint on his tongue. It was an intoxicating, delicious feeling, and he relished the flavor, the feel, the scent.

Until a knock at the door brought it all crashing down.

“Sire?”

The two men sprung apart as if they’d been shocked. Genn shared at the door, wide eyed and panting.

“King Wrynn? You have a council meeting in five minutes, we need to go,” a muffled voice said through the door.

“I’ll make my way there, go on ahead,” Varian called back to the thick wood.

“Very good, sire.”

Genn looked at Varian, who was staring back at him, eyes dark with lust. The King of Stormwind straightened his chain mail, re clasped his cloak, smoothed his hair and stepped to the door. He put his hand on the handle and turned back.

“This isn’t over, Genn.”

Light, he hoped it wasn’t.


	2. Chapter 2

The demand for a shared private dinner, couched in a barely civil formal note, came that afternoon. Apparently Varian’s famous lack of patience was winning out in the current situation. Genn didn’t mind. His nerves still burned from that kiss, the need for another an almost physical ache.

He presented himself at Varian’s door at the time indicated in the note, knocked, and waited. Moments later, Varian opened the door, ushering Prince Anduin out. The young teen gave Genn a quick half-bow as he passed, and disappeared down the hallway.

“King Greymane, come in. We have much to discuss,” Varian said with an attempt at formality.

“Thank you, King Wrynn,” he replied, with what he felt was better control. He kept his head high, back straight as he stepped into the room.

As soon as the door was shut and locked, he turned, not sure what to expect. Varian was on him in an instant, hands tugging him into another kiss. His posture relaxed, and he leaned in, letting Varian take control. The kiss was no less hungry than before, but Varian took his time, exploring Genn’s mouth leisurely. Genn could hear his heart pounding in his chest while Varian’s was steady.

_How could the man be so composed?_

Varian pulled back, staring down into his eyes, pupils blown wide. “Good evening. So glad you came.” The smile that came with those words was wicked.

Genn caught himself reaching up to touch the taller man’s cheek, and pulled his hand back. “Your note made it abundantly clear I was to attend, short of being on Death’s Door.”

“Had you been on Death’s Door, I would have summoned a healer, then insisted you come for dinner.”

The got a laugh out of him. “Of course you would. Never deny a king his desires.”

Varian looked serious for a moment. “My desire should be clear, but if you’re not willing to return it, I won’t force the issue. We can turn this into just a meal.”

Genn snorted. “As if you’d want to sit through dinner with your pride wounded like that. It would be the most uncomfortable meal imaginable.”

Varian shrugged. “For you, I would try.”

He pulled the younger king in for another kiss, this one languid. He moved, kissing along Varian’s jaw, and down one side of his neck, where he bit gently, relishing the groan he coaxed free of the man. He worked slowly back up, licking the outside of Varian’s ear, and then whispered, “Is this answer enough?”

He found himself against a wall, hands pinned over his head, Varian pressing him flat while his mouth was ravaged and the taller man growled. He lost himself in the smell of Varian, the musk of him and his arousal, the faint taste of peppermint somehow still lingering, the sound of their clothes rubbing together. He flexed his wrists, seeing if he could break free, and felt the other man smile against his lips.

“Oh no, wolf, you are mine tonight.”

“Dinner first?” Genn wasn’t hungry, not for food.

“It will keep.” Varian released his hold on one wrist, and using the other, dragged him towards the bedroom. Genn followed willingly, wondering if anything had been planned beyond getting him into the bedchamber.

Once there, his coat was stripped from him, and nimble fingers worked at his buttons. “I want you bare and in my bed, now.”

Genn took over undressing himself, leaving his clothes laying over a chair in one corner. Varian, by contrast, left his in a pile at the foot of the bed, one heavy boot lying on top of the pile somehow. Genn only spared enough of a thought to remind himself not to trip over it as he approached the bed.

Varian nude was a magnificent sight, all long, muscular limbs, broad back, and tanned skin. He was marked with decades of scars - some fine, some wide and ridged - all impressive. His thighs were strong and powerful, and Genn could only imagine what they’d do to him. A long scar ran down one arm, ending at mid forearm, highlighting the defined muscles there. That arm was extended to him, waiting. He needed no further encouragement.

Kneeling on the bed beside Varian, he waited. Up close, the brown-haired man was even more appealing, his eyes dark with lust, his hair messy. How he wanted to run his fingers through it, to fist and pull. Taking a deep breath, he reached up, tucking a stray lock behind Varian’s ear, and was surprised when his touch was leaned into. Emboldened, he ran his hand along the young man’s jaw, cupping it and pulling him closer for a kiss.

As they kissed, Genn ran his hands across Varian’s skin, learning the muscles and scars, the form, the shape of him. His hands traced a scar across his chest, where it narrowly missed a nipple, and he couldn’t resist running a thumb up and over the hard nub, earning him a groan. He broke the kiss, working along the other man’s collarbone, nipping and sucking his way to the center of his chest, and lower. He licked, then blew on one nipple, while brushing the other with his thumb, ending with a hand in his hair, clutching lightly.

“Yes,” Varian murmured, his other hand on Genn’s shoulder.

Genn continued to lick and suck, the taste of his king strong on his tongue. He went to move lower, but was stopped.Varian tugged his head up, and lifted him as if he weighed nothing, and settled him so they were chest to chest, Genn kneeling, legs straddling Varian’s. Their cocks brushed together, and they broth groaned.

Varian reached past him, under a pillow, and drew out a vial of oil. He slicked up his hand, and moved down, touching them both. Genn gasped at the contact, hands clenching on Varian’s broad shoulders to steady himself. Varian took them in hand, movements strong and smooth. The feeling of their skin, hot and filmed with sweat was glorious, and the additional feel of Varian’s hardness rubbing against his, with the king’s hand working them both was almost more than he could handle. He felt his worgen side begin to rise along with his climax, and struggled to keep control.

“Don’t fight it,” Varian ground out, squeezing them tighter. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be,” Genn panted. “What if I bit you?”

“You won’t. Now come for me, wolf.”

He did, throwing back his head with a groan, clinging to Varian’s muscular biceps as he rode the waves of pleasure. He felt a bite on his neck and then the younger man was moaning his climax, surprisingly quiet.

The two clutched at each other, breathing hard, the smell of sex and sweat heavy in the room.

“You are well trained,” Varian said at last, a smile on his face.

Genn blushed, forced himself to meet the other man’s gaze. “I would hardly say trained. You’re just very good at that.”

“Proper as always. Move over.”

He moved to one side, sitting on the bed, finally noticing the mess they’d made across themselves. Varian rose and left the room. He returned in a moment with a platter, bottle of wine, and a pair of wineglasses.

“Now, dinner. I had something simple prepared, so it would keep.”

He placed the dish on the nightstand, then poured them each a glass of wine. Genn took his, sipping gratefully to soothe his dry throat. Varian downed his glass, then poured more, but only a little.

“Lie back,” he ordered.

Genn set his glass aside and did as he was told, lying flat in the middle of the bed. Varian settled in next to him, leaning over. The dark haired man tilted his glass, letting a thing stream of wine drip onto the older king’s collarbone, pooling there. Varian leaned down and licked leisurely, lapping it up. Genn groaned as Varian traced his tongue through the wine, drawing patterns on his skin.

“Delicious. Hungry?” A satisfied look filled Varian’s eyes at Genn’s inability to respond. He leaned over, plucking a tidbit off the platter, and held it to the worgen’s lips. Genn opened his mouth, automatically accepting the bite. It was a smoked meat of some sort, on toast, pungent and salty.

Varian fed him another bite, a bit of fruit, then some cheese. Genn tried to sit up, but was pressed back into place. He relented, allowing the High King his whims, and instead accepted the bites, the sips of wine, letting himself be fed like a pet.

Varian dripped wine onto him several more times, each time licking it off in slow and delicious ways, causing his pulse to heat. How he wished he could return the favor, to taste the salt of his skin and the wine mixing together.

Eventually, Varian let him sit up, handing him his glass again. Without a moment’s hesitation, Genn dipped a finger in it, tracing it across the other man’s broad shoulder, then traced it with his tongue. It was every bit as heady and intoxicating as he’d imagined. He felt his breath catch in his throat. Unable to help himself, he moved in closer, biting at the juncture where Varian’s neck and shoulder met, eliciting a deep groan from him.

“Stay with me a while?” The request was soft, not demanding.

“Of course,” Genn said. The two men crawled under the covers, Varian tugging on Genn when he settled on the far side of the bed. Unsure where to be, Genn moved closer, and found himself tucked up against the other king.

With one hand, Varian pulled the tie from his hair, letting down the long tresses. Genn reached up, running a hand through them, fisting tightly, and tugging. He was rewarded with a soft open-mouthed gasp, and moved in to take a kiss. Varian’s lips were soft, and he let Genn take control of the kiss, let him claim his mouth. The change in the man was unexpected, but only caused a pleased rumble to escape from Genn’s throat. He kissed down, nipping at Varian’s throat, hearing the man pant. Relenting, he moved away, releasing the brown locks.

Varian’s eyes were hooded and dark, sparks of lust shining in them. “Perhaps the wolf isn’t yet tamed.”

Genn laughed, stroking the younger man’s face. “Of course I’m not tame. What use would I be to you?”

Varian wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. “I look forward to seeing your wild side.”

“Of course, your majesty.”


End file.
